I thought that now I had returned, life would revert to normal. Perhaps my mind would heal, my frozen vocal cords would relinquish their grip on words, and I would speak. I was wrong. Again. Events didn't even allow me time to settle back into my old life. War followed us home.
Magda fell ill first. Lady Jeffrey's high-pitched screams reached my room out in the barn. She accused the cook of being lazy and threatened to throw her out if dinner wasn't served exactly at six pm. Then the sickness claimed Charlotte.
By the time we saw the news in the paper, the pandemic had swept across Europe and crashed into England. If the farm had possessed a moat, Lady Jeffrey would have pulled up the drawbridge and shut out the world. And us. Leaving us to starve and rot in the dirt.